Preternatural
by The Readers Muse
Summary: "It's an insight. It's like peek through the curtain into someone else's life."


**Disclaimer:** I don't own "The Conjuring." Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.

 **Authors Note #1:** Part three of my "(Human) connections" series featuring Brad and Drew, follows "Agamoi" and "Biaiothanatoi" – I wanted to examine the events that happened post movie for these two.

 **Disclaimer:** supernatural elements, ghosts, hauntings, canon appropriate violence, adult language, pre-slash, drama, angst, post movie.

 **Preternatural**

 _"It's an insight. It's like peek through the curtain into someone else's life."_

* * *

The funny thing was, he wasn't even surprised when Brad showed up the next time around. Or the next. Shadowing them through a mildly haunted old folks home where the wheelchairs moved by themselves. Then to a creaky old investment property where things kept going missing on the renovation crew. And lastly, to a landmark church on the edge of some out of the way town where the cranky caretaker's ghost was haunting the bell tower.

The thing about the gig was, if it hooked you the first time out, it pretty much hooked you for life.

It got into the blood and settled there like a calling.

He should know, after all.

They visited the Perron family every so often. Letting Carolyn cluck and fuss over the healing mark on Brad's cheek. While he tried and mostly failed to fend off Andrea's growingly determined teenage advances. Taking periodic readings between catching up on each other's lives. It was mostly a precaution to reassure everyone that the big bag ugly hadn't decided to make their nightmare into a sequel. But the truth was, neither of them minded doing it. Brad liked the home cooked food and the general hub-bub and he liked to run off the mouth with the girls and relive the spooky good times on the sly. But each time they went, it ended the exact same way. With him having to tow Brad out of the laundry room, more or less with brute force.

The man sure could plant his feet when he wanted too, that's for damn sure.

* * *

By the time they'd wrapped up their fifth case together it was hard to imagine doing a job without him.

It was more than just him being a good fit.

The truth was, Brad was a natural.

But what he _was_ surprised about was how Lorraine had started looking at him - _at Brad_ \- when she figured no one was watching. And _yeah-_ he wasn't about to let _that_ fly without sticking his nose in.

* * *

"It wasn't by chance you guys picked him, was it?" he started off one day, sitting down beside her on the porch steps as they were packing up to drive the next state over for some school-related haunting.

Lorraine's smile was kind as looked over at him, rosary clacking gently against the painted pink of her nails as they watched Ed and Brad pack the van. Not looking at all surprised by the question as she leaned into him slightly - companionable and easy. Filling the air with the soft, comforting smell of her perfume.

"No, it wasn't," she answered simply, one corner of her mouth tugging upwards. "We met when Ed and I were investigating some condemned ruins on the very edge of town. It was pitch black. There was no moon. No light coming through the holes in the roof. He must have seen the car parked out front and followed us in. We were following some clear signs of activity when he nearly blinded up with his flashlight. Ed actually _yelled_. He snuck up on us pretty good, I have to admit."

He grinned.

"Busted."

Her smile was beatific and distant like she was remembering. Shaking her head as though part of her still couldn't quite believe it.

"After we finally explained what we were doing, he'd clearly had enough. He told us we had to leave. We were breaking and entering and worse- the place wasn't safe. It'd been condemned for a reason, after all. The building was slated for demolition as soon as the bidding finished. You know how it goes. I'm pretty sure he didn't want to be in there at all, so we weren't exactly surprised when he told us that if we followed him out we'd get off with a warning. Obviously we agreed. We could always come back another night and be smarter with where we parked so it wasn't exactly any skin off our nose either way."

"Officer Brad Hamilton laying down the law," he teased, nudging her gently. "Little did he know you two little deviants were playing on a completely different level."

"He moment he turned to start leading us out, that was when I saw them. Nearly a dozen of them, all crowded around as he led the way out with his flashlight. _Him. Not us._ They were children, some of them barely up to his waist. We found out later that the building used to be a boarding school - there was a number of years where tuberculous nearly wiped them out."

He suppressed a shiver, barely.

He hated those cases.

They were the kind that had claws that tended to sink into you.

Regardless of how much you tried to shake them after the fact.

"I motioned for Ed to keep filming. He didn't know why until we watched the tape afterwards. But you can see these little tugs that swayed Brad away from danger. Plucks on his sleeves. Small shoves. Little hands curling around his boots to angle him out of the way just in time. All designed to keep him safe. The floor was rotting, half ripped up and like an ant-hill of holes," she shared, rubbing at her cheek with the beads of her rosary like it was self-soothing. " _I watched them do it._ They made sure he was stepping in the right places. They clustered around him so thick it dropped the temperature enough that our teeth were chattering and Brad was rubbing his arms, complaining about the 'weird weather' lately. Not even aware of it. They wanted nothing to do with Ed and I, but for some reason they were drawn to him."

"Like the maid..." he breathed, looking over at where Brad and Ed were trying to fit an overlarge suitcase into the car before Brad tossed up his hands and dragged it out again. Brown hair mussed out of it's usual slick part in a way he didn't know he liked until right then.

"Yes," she agreed. "Call it a sensitivity…an empathy. But whatever it is, it's getting stronger. Especially now that he knows what's out there. You saw him last time, the caretaker's ghost was-"

He shook his head, determined to change the subject.

"So, he's like you?"

"Yes and no," Lorraine answered, this time a bit wistfully. "In some ways he's better off."

"Better off?" he echoed doubtfully.

"It doesn't take from him," she explained with a self-conscious sigh. Looking over at Ed and Brad only her stare seemed to go right through them. "The bad ones, like the Perron's case, it takes pieces from me. I don't know how to explain it, but sometimes I can feel it hollowing me out. Replacing strength with weakness. Warmth with cold. And it never quite heals. For Brad, it doesn't seem to affect him."

He flashed to the empty glass of bourbon and the bar bill the man had paid at the end of that night without even blinking. Lips thinning across his face as he reminded himself in mid-gesture not to chew on his nails. Maybe it didn't take in the same way it took from her, but it still affected him.

"He's so special, Drew," Lorraine murmured quietly. Creeping him out by how pleased she sounded as Ed let go of a loud huff of laughter at something Brad had said. The sound echoing pleasantly through the window of the suburban.

"He doesn't know does he?" he asked, already knowing the answer before he voiced it, but wanting it regardless. Realizing that somewhere along the last six months his life had become far more about _Brad god damned Hamilton_ than anyone else.

"No. But you do, don't you?" Lorraine observed kindly. "I know you've been looking out for him since the Perron case. He's important to you, isn't he?"

He sighed, stretching slightly as the seat of his trousers threatened to snag across the rough of the cement. Not sure what part he was answering when he eventually forced the words.

"He'll freak out."

"He needs to figure it out for himself," she countered with a small smile, not at all clarifying matters as she leaned into his shoulder again. "I know I did. I had to come to terms with it in my own way, long before I met Ed."

He rolled his eyes.

 _Clear as mud, thanks a lot, Lorraine._

"His gift is self-tempered," she murmured after an easy pause, changing tracks completely as he struggled to keep up. "It isn't raw like mine. He controls himself without realizing it. Not giving up enough of himself for those forces to take pieces from him, but enough for him to make a difference. I didn't know that kind of control was possible. But his is natural."

"He said he owed you guys a favor," he asked. Suddenly remembering what Brad had said about why he'd taken the Perron job in the first place.

She smiled, almost wickedly. Eyes dancing.

"That's something you'll need to ask him about."

"Yeah, right," he muttered. Thinking that was about as likely as hell freezin' over. And while he figured he knew the answer to the next question too, he asked anyway.

"What did you feel? The first time you touched him, I mean?"

She surprised him by not dismissing it right away, appearing deep in thought as a gust of wind whispered between the trees overhead. Filtering through the groan of shocks from the van as Brad and Ed wrestled with the last of the equipment. Noting off hand that Brad's shirt had gotten untucked on the left side. Revealing a mess of long, lean-muscled lines and-

"He felt like a mirror," Lorraine admitted. "It's his gift, I suppose. The ability to reflect- or at least illuminate the truth. The good in all sides, even in the dark. But I saw- I saw something I don't think has happened yet. Which is strange for me. I usually only pick up things that _have_ happened. Strong memories and impressions. But near the end I saw a field, lazy heat and fallow wheat. I saw him smiling in the sun with someone. It was very lovely, I got the impression that it was a-"

His attention was caught again when Brad bent down, grabbing the last bag. Stuffing it into the van with a triumphant sound before dusting off his hands on his trousers.

Because _yeah_ , he wasn't blind, thank you _very_ much.

It wasn't exactly something he advertised or anything, but he'd never held himself back from playing for both teams, so to speak. Women and men? They were both attractive in their own ways. And if the person he was crushing on happened to have a strong, stocky build and something more below the belt than just a zipper and a belt buckle, well- it made no difference to him. Even though in Brad's case he was pretty sure he'd get a fist in the face for even askin'.

Lorraine cleared her throat.

"What?" he demanded automatically. Blushing a bit at being so obviously caught.

"Nothing," she hummed, clearly amused. Following his gaze before branching off to linger on Ed's easy posture by the van. Leaning with a hip hitched up against the side like something out of the clothing section in the Sears catalogue.

He cleared his throat.

"And you?" he sing-songed pointedly. Chuckling openly as her smile spread like something good and contagious in the best of ways.

"Nothing," she parroted.

"What are you two gabbing about?" Brad asked, startling them both into giggling hiccups. Clearly not sure if he should be laughing with them or offended just in case he might be the butt of the joke.

"Nothing!" they chorused together. Only laughing all the harder when he shook his head and slouched his way back into the house. Muttering about them being too damn old for school-girl gossip.

He was pretty sure he didn't stop smiling the whole drive.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. Stay tuned for the next part of the series.

 **Reference:**

\- Preternatural: beyond what is normal or natural.


End file.
